Thanks for those of you who took the time to review! I am glad to hear you like my
writing… it makes posting much more fun :-)

As always thanks to Little My for beta reading!!!

so, another update for my most faithful reviewers… and yes, there will be more… this
chapter is just a short interlude, before the battle of Helm's Deep.
The next one will deal with … oh no, that would be telling :-) … just keep on reading –
and tell me if you like it…

___


They stayed up there in companionable silence, elf and dwarf, each of them grieving
in his own way for the friend they had lost. They would not be needed in the ongoing
battle preparations and neither of them felt any desire to return to the halls filled with
men.

A sharp intake of breath from Legolas roused Gimli from his own musings and he
raised his head to look at the elf. Legolas's eyes were wide, staring out into the
distance. Gimli followed his gaze but could make out nothing. Knowing how keen his
friend's eyes were, he assumed whatever the elf saw was too far away for mortal
eyes.

'What is it you see?' he asked, repeating his own words spoken not so long ago.

'My eyes must be deceiving me,' Legolas whispered. 'It cannot be.'

'What?'

But still the elf ignored him, eyes fixed on something only he could see.

'Can it be, that hope should be returned to us?'

'You make no sense to me, elf,' Gimli spoke impatiently.

But Legolas did not answer and the dwarf refused to ask again. Instead he watched
the elf's face closely, strangely touched as the mask of concentration on his fair face
turned slowly into a brilliant smile.

'Ai!' he cried out, gesturing widely with his arm. 'See for yourself, Gimli, and tell me I
am not dreaming.'

'Are you not always?' the dwarf grumbled, but still strained his eyes to see what
would make the elf so agitated.

Just within reach of mortal sight he could see now a dark point, getting closer slowly.

'So what?' he mumbled. 'A rider. One more within these walls will not change the
odds much.

Yet his own heart lifted without his knowing why as he watched the blur dissolve into
a horse and a rider. Then suddenly the familiarity of the figure caused his heart to
skip a beat. He cast a quick glance towards Legolas and the pure joy on his face told
him the truth.

'It cannot be.' He found himself repeating the elf's words.

'It is, my friend!' the cheerful voice assured him. 'I know not how but it truly is
Aragorn.'

The sound of elven laughter accompanying these words erased the heavy burden of
grief Gimli's heart had carried over the loss of their friend. He could see the man
clearly now--he seemed weary but undeniably alive and his own face broke out into a
wide grin.

'Then let's give him a fitting welcome!' he roared, his voice startling the guards
behind them. He turned without waiting for a response to rush towards the stairs.
Upon seeing the confused expression upon the men's faces as he passed them by,
he could not restrain himself from calling out to them.

'Give word that Aragorn, son of Arathorn is coming.'

Then he was on his way down the steps, only realizing Legolas was not at his side
when he was halfway down. He halted, looking back, but could see no trace of his
friend, nor hear his light step. With a shrug he decided to let the elf do whatever he
wished. Maybe he had chosen to jump down from the walls to greet Aragorn first.
Although he doubted even an elf could accomplish that without doing himself serious
harm.

Joy of seeing his friend alive directed his steps into the wide hall behind the gate,
eager to see and touch the man, to make sure he was truly there.

@@@

Legolas stayed where he was, even as Gimli left his side to rush and greet Aragorn.
His eyes never left the man until he had securely passed the gate. Only then did he
move away, light steps taking him down the stairs.

Yet his eyes had not missed the dark shadow that had spread from the horizon,
seemingly following the way Aragorn had taken.

He could see Aragorn making his way towards the hall King Theoden was in and
quick steps brought him directly in front of him. The man stopped just short of
bumping into him, and lifted his head slowly. Their eyes met--the elf's alight with joy,
the man's weary. It took a moment ere recognition formed on Aragorn's face, as if his
mind was too tired to react with its usual speed.

'You are late.'

It was all Legolas could say--words were not enough to express what he was feeling,
and he slipped into his own tongue as for a moment emotions overcame him. But the
light in his eyes told it all. Then he let his gaze wander over the man for the briefest
moment, taking in the wound on his shoulder, the blood and dirt on his clothes. He
felt the warmth of life as well as the weariness radiating from him.

'You look terrible,' he spoke.

The slightly taken aback look upon hearing the elf's first words changed to one of
amusement, and a laugh escaped as tenseness suddenly left Aragorn. Their eyes
met again and the worry on the elf's face changed to simple joy.

The man reached out to place his hand on Legolas's shoulder, the simple touch
erasing any doubt that might have still lingered in his mind. He was alive and well,
had taken no severe hurt. Then Legolas's hand slipped into his tunic to find the small
thing he had stored there.

He could see Aragorn's eyes widen as he gently placed the Evenstar into his hand, a
soft smile upon his face. For a moment the man stared at the glittering jewelry lying
on his bloodied palm before he raised his head to once more look at the elf standing
before him.

'Thank you,' he whispered, using the elven tongue himself. The gaze holding his told
him without words of the grief his friend had experienced. His hand closed around the
precious thing that he had believed lost as he felt himself grasped in a tight grip that
spoke of the relief the elf felt at seeing him.

@@@

'Then I will die as one of them!'

The words cut deeply for they voiced what Legolas truly feared. The dark gaze bored
into him for a long moment and he could find no words, no answer to this statement.

Then Aragorn's eyes turned away as well as the man himself and he walked out of
the room.

Despair, hurt and the desire to take back the words that had shaken the man so
much made Legolas move to follow him, but a hand held him back.

'Let him go, lad.'

Gimli's voice was gentle, holding no accusation.

'Let him be.'

He followed the dwarf's advice and stayed, feeling many eyes upon him, some of
them angry. He had spoken in his own tongue, as he tended to do when emotions
overcame rational thought. A good thing or he might have shattered the last remains
of hope and trust that still lingered within these walls. With a sigh he closed his eyes
for a moment, feeling weary and drained beyond anything.

The dwarf watched him with concern. He knew not what it was that Legolas had said,
but the emotion on the face of the usually composed elf had not been hard to read.
The dark mood he had thought banished seemed to have settled over his friend
again, despite his brief joy over Aragorn's safe return.

'What is it,' he asked gently as if not to startle Legolas away, 'that weighs on your
mind so heavily? I would not think it is fear, for you have faced many perils like this
without losing hope.'

The elf sighed again, slowly opening his eyes. The emotion in them shook Gimli, for it
was indeed not fear he could read there but pain.

Legolas looked at him but stayed silent for so long that Gimli lost hope of receiving an
answer at all. He opened his mouth to speak again, to coax the elf into telling him,
when Legolas suddenly shook his head.

'Not here, Gimli.'

Without hesitation he stood and grabbed the elf's arm, dragging him out of the room.
Looking around he could find no private place as men, old and young, milled around
getting ready for the fight.

So he chose the stairs once more that would lead them outside, Legolas following his
lead without resistance. It seemed that the short exchange of words with Aragorn had
taken all the fight out of him.

Finally alone and out of the hearing range of the guards, he turned to the elf. The
dark eyes met his and flickered away again. The dwarf waited patiently, but no words
came.

'So?' he gruffly probed, wishing to hear what it was that darkened the usually bright
eyes.

With a sigh the elf shook his head.

'I cannot explain it, Gimli!' he exclaimed. 'It is a feeling, a foreboding that troubles my
heart. It is what I felt before, ere Gandalf fell and ere Boromir was lost. I know not
what it is, but it speaks of death. I fear, but not for myself.'

'Folly it would be not to fear in an hour as dark as this,' Gimli responded. His heart
clenched at the words for he remembered well the elf's warning words in Moria as
well as on the side of the river Anduin. Both times he had been proven right.

'It is more than this. And I cannot bear the thought…' Legolas's voice faded and for a
moment he said no more. Then his eyes met Gimli's. 'I should not have spoken to
Aragorn the way I did. Not when hope is fading already, even from his heart. But I
cannot help this feeling… things will go ill tonight, and I dread it.'

'This night will cost many lives and who will still draw breath when morning dawns we
cannot know. But I refuse to believe that we have come this far, faced so much only
to have it end here. No, my friend, this is a fight too important for us to lose and I
know it will not happen.'

He smiled at the look on the elf's face.

'It is not a gift of the elves alone to feel what is to come. I know this night will be long
and dark, but morning will come. And someone will still be here to see it.'

Legolas bowed his head and Gimli could see his rigid stance relax. A deep breath he
took and as he looked up at the dwarf once more the turmoil in his eyes had calmed.

'Forgive me, my friend', he whispered, 'for my weakness. I did not mean to burden
you like this.'

A gentle laugh was his answer as the dwarf reached up to clasp his arm.

'There is no need to ask forgiveness for I see no weakness in what you feel. For you
are still here. You did not leave our side even as doubt filled your heart. Nay,
Legolas, you are not weak.'

He shook his head in amusement.

'Strange folk, elves are,' he mumbled, but his gaze was fond.